


La Petite Mort

by slashyrogue



Category: Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Polar (2019), Trial & Retribution
Genre: Assassin Roberto, Fighting, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Rough Kissing, Written before the movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-10-09 23:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17414597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashyrogue/pseuds/slashyrogue
Summary: Duncan has been enjoying his retirement for the last four years when a familiar face walks into his favorite cafe and sits down beside him.Roberto.His Little Death.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Being retired had its advantages.

 

Duncan no longer had to worry about work, for one, indulging in late mornings and even later nights for reasons that didn’t include murder.

 

Another?

 

He didn’t have to worry about being regularly attacked.

 

Every nameless stranger who stared at him was no longer a target, just someone whose eyes happened on the wrong person.

 

That was of course, until Duncan walked into Triple Oak Diner and saw _him._

 

He paused before he sat down at the counter, taking in what the young man wore. A red sweater that was a bit too large, well worn blue jeans, and shoes that cost more than most people his age could even dream of. When he sat down the young man looked at him and his gaze was fond.

 

“Hello,” he said, a hint of a smile coming unbidden.

 

“You look tired.”

 

“And you look lost.”

 

The young man grinned. “We both know I’m not lost.”

 

Duncan’s jaw tightened as he looked away, gesturing to Mary Anne who knew his order by heart. He had been in West Prairie for nearly four years now, his retirement gift to himself, and the cafe’s other patrons knew him as well.

 

“Not here.”

 

“Of course not,” the young man said, reaching for a fork when a full breakfast was put in front of him.

 

They ate in relative silence, a tense twelve minutes that had him assessing every movement his breakfast companion made. He couldn’t help but also look at how much the young man had grown since they’d last seen each other.

 

Nearly four years to the day he’d walked away.

 

The sound of his fork hitting the counter made his companion twitch and he smiled.

 

“I’ve finished.”

 

“I’m not yet--”

 

Duncan grabbed his hand and put the fork down. He felt the tension in him, the anger, and for a moment saw the recruit that had been.

 

Roberto.

 

His Little Death.

 

The rising anger in Roberto’s face made him smile.

 

“Calm, La Petite.”

 

Roberto sighed and nodded, tossing down way too much for their meal and letting him lead the way. He had a truck but knew Roberto would’ve come on a bike. The ease in which he entered Duncan’s Toyota was odd considering, but he didn’t comment even as they drove.

 

The buildings felt more sentimental as he watched them go by for possibly the last time. Each place held a story, some he knew and others he might not ever.

 

“I am not surprised she sent you.”

 

Roberto said nothing.

 

“She knows I---”

 

“Just stop talking.”

 

Duncan looked at him again and saw the hard set of his jaw.

 

“Tell me.”

 

“I said stop talking!” he snapped, turning fast.

 

His eyes were red rimmed and Duncan for once knew nothing to say. He nodded and they continued their journey in total silence. When he parked the truck outside his cabin and they got out, the seclusion around them felt like a promise.  

 

The sun was fast near the time to set and he wondered if he’d have time to get a weapon.

 

“It’s nice,” Roberto said, walking forward, “Old and alone like you.”

 

Duncan chuckled as he followed, still tense for the wrath to come even as they walked to his door.

 

“Yes.”

 

“She took longer because she thought you’d come back.”

 

The minute he closed the door behind him Duncan struck, turning them fast and pressing Roberto against it. He fought for breath, out of practice, and sneered at the smile his protege gave.

 

“She was mistaken.”

 

“I thought you would too,” Roberto whispered, reaching up to touch his face only for him to flinch back.

 

“What game are you playing La Petite?”

 

He saw the air go out of the mask of innocence his Little Death wore like a second skin.

 

“Yours.”

 

Duncan frowned. “What?”

 

Roberto turned him fast and pressed Duncan against the door, his lithe quick reflexes no match for Duncan’s old bones. “I won’t let them take you. I---”

 

He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Duncan’s hard, bruising and rushed. The taste of eggs hit his tongue and he pushed back hard.

 

“Don’t be foolish!” he growled, letting go and stalking across the room.

 

“I am not being anything! I love you!”

 

Duncan shook his head. “You are a child.”

 

“I am twenty one years old, Papa,” Roberto snapped, making him tense, “I was an adult even when you left me and I have had my fair share of fucks by men much older than you since we last laid eyes on each other.”

 

He threw open his closet, found the trunk near the back, and pulled it out.

 

“I don’t need to hear about this.”

 

Duncan pressed in several numbers and was pulled back from looking inside just as it opened. Roberto threw him against the closest wall and he winced at the pain in his head. The sight of his Little Death, red faced and angry gave Duncan pause.

 

“YES you do!”

 

The ease in which he could overpower Roberto was obvious but he didn’t.

 

“I am old enough to be your grandfather.”

 

Roberto scoffed. “So? Since the moment I was brought in all I wanted was you. I fought to be the best, to kill the best, and I did that but you still….you LEFT!”

 

Duncan looked away, ignoring the sound of frustration that came from his indifference.

 

“LOOK AT ME!”

 

He did just that. “For someone who says he is not a child, you are acting very much like one.”

 

“Tell me you feel nothing for me and I will kill you now.”

 

“I feel for you as a father feels for a---”

 

The rest of his lie was cut off with another kiss, this one soft, tender, and just what he would’ve expected to be used against him. He let go, giving in to this dance, and when Roberto did the same Duncan quickly flipped him to the floor.

 

He saw the raw feeling in his Little Death’s eyes and paused.

 

“You are being sincere.”

 

Roberto glared. “WHY WOULD I LIE?”   


“Because you are a little monster who regularly kills those he fucks with feigned innocence and sweetness?”

 

He watched as the anger faded from Roberto’s eyes and his smile was fond once again.

 

“I don’t need to be innocent with you, only me. I believe you said it best once before didn’t you?”

 

Duncan knelt down and touched his cheek. “Kill them with kindness but leave that bullshit for them not me.”

 

Roberto licked his lips. “Yes.”

 

“You realize if you don’t kill me, they’ll kill you.”

 

His playful grin was infectious. “Oh I do hope they try.”

 

Duncan leaned down and their lips were close enough to kiss. “It is just my good luck you’re on my side.”

 

“Anything for you, Papa.”

 

He pulled his hair and Roberto winced but still smiled. “Do not call me that again.”

 

“Kiss me.”

 

“I will once you’ve earned it.”

 

Duncan stood up and tried to ignore the groan of his old bones, halfway to standing before he was flipped expertly onto the floor. He barely had time to blink in surprise when Roberto pinned him.

 

“Now?”

 

“I can’t move even if I wanted to.”

 

Roberto leaned in and his breath tickled Duncan’s lips. “Do you want to?”

 

He smiled. “No.”

 

They kissed again, this time just a bit too hard to be tender but still rough.

 

Duncan knew his Little Death liked it fast and rough.

 

He only hoped he could keep up.

  



	2. Chapter 2

They quickly began to go through the arsenal in his trunk, many guns and knives that he’d hidden away for a rainy day. Roberto picked up each piece with reverence, the excitement in his eyes making Duncan smile. 

 

“I thought you retired.” 

 

He handed over an assault rifle and their fingers brushed just enough to leave lasting memories. 

 

“I did,” he said, “But I didn’t become senile.” 

 

Roberto’s smile widened. “Good. Because you know what’s next.” 

 

Of course he did. 

 

They had to take a picture. 

 

She normally would not be satisfied with one, though his Petite was notorious for them. 

 

A little extra, he always said. 

 

Now his idiosyncrasy was guaranteed to give them some time before they were found out. The glee in which he worked to make Duncan appear dead was criminal and admirable at once. He attempted to kiss him after her call, fingers messy with fake blood, but Duncan pushed him off. 

 

“You have yet to earn it,” he reminded him. 

 

“I just killed you! I think that’s payment enough!” 

 

Duncan grinned back at him as he headed for the shower. “Fake killed me. When you accomplish the actual task, then maybe I will allow you to kiss me again before I perish for good.” 

 

Roberto flipped him off and he washed away his death, ignoring the twitch of his cock at the thought of what those long fingers might be able to do. 

 

They went to bed that night in separate beds, despite the lascivious stare Roberto attempted to use to convince him otherwise. 

 

“You of all people know looks are not the way to persuade me to do something.” 

 

His Petite was a master at manipulation and tried his patience every day since his arrival but Duncan couldn’t help but think this was still just a game. Roberto was several decades younger than he, beautiful and fit, and had much better prospects than an old man. 

 

If they made it out of this alive he would see how ridiculous the very idea seemed.

 

Duncan rose with the sun the next morning and started his daily routine. Light calisthenics, skipping his normal walk around the perimeter, and then he began breakfast. Roberto hated to be woken before noon, he remembered, and snored softly on the couch while Duncan ate runny eggs and began to strategize. 

 

She would no doubt send someone to assess Roberto’s work, could already be watching them really, and from then on they would be targets. There were a number of casualties she would send before the big guns, canon fodder to lure them into a false sense of security before they had to really fight. It was a tried and true staple of hers, clever in its way to see just how out of practice he truly had become. 

 

He looked at Roberto, half fallen off his couch, and for a moment regretted leaving him. How much had they put him through after? Her anger at his retirement and the bodies he’d given her as payment would have deemed him to suffer in Duncan’s place.

 

As if on cue Roberto fell off the couch, cursing as he stood and exposed himself to Duncan who had forgotten he slept naked.

 

“What time is it?”

 

He looked down at the maps on the table, blushing and feeling much like an old man. 

 

“Eight oh three.”

 

“Fuck, that couch is shit.”

 

“I wasn’t prepared for overnight guests.”

 

“You could’ve been not horrible and let me share the bed.”

 

Duncan looked up to see him pulling on boxer briefs. “I think the love bites may have been hard to explain on my corpse.”

 

Roberto smiled. “True, though I would’ve figured out something. She knows how much I’ve missed you.”

 

“You told her of your feelings for me?”

 

He scoffed. “No, but anyone with eyes knew we were close before you left.”

 

Duncan followed him with his eyes as Roberto came to the table, flopping down into the chair across from him before he began to eat with his hands. 

 

“I have forks.”

 

“Should we leave behind evidence two people ate here? We are leaving yes?”

 

He began to zero in on the way Roberto licked his fingers after every bit of egg, distracted. “Yes. I assume you have a safe house?”

 

His Little Death laughed. “You still think I’m a child? What do you take me for,  _ Papa _ ?”

 

“I said—“

 

He stood up and moved with such slick quickness that Duncan hardly had time to blink when his lap was full. The warmth and scent of him so close could lead any man to sin.

 

“Papa,” he purred, wiggling with deliberation, “I’m all grown up. I have safe houses, guns, and contacts of my very own. I even make…,” he leaned in until their mouths almost touched, “...plans.”

 

Duncan leaned in just as his lap was vacated, the smug smirk on Roberto’s face an embarrassment to say the least. 

 

“Good,” he said, his cock already half hard, “I’m glad you learned how to properly plan.”

 

The quick peek of tongue he gave when licking his lips made Duncan fight back a groan. 

 

“I learned from the best, didn’t I?” 

 

The compliment was another part of this game, he knew that, but a warmth in his chest still came despite everything. 

 

“Your talents weren’t learned, Petite. But let’s stop the compliments and you can tell me where we’re headed.” 

 

“Atlanta.” 

 

“A current house?” 

 

“Bought under an assumed name six months ago.” 

 

Duncan flipped through his maps and looked for Georgia, ignoring the sound as Roberto rummaged through his own things. 

 

“She may have been looking for cities nearby with recent acquired houses that---” 

 

He flinched when something hit him in the side of the head, looking down to see a notebook. 

 

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Roberto snapped, “I have four houses there. We’ll go to one, leave things, and then sleep in another. I’m not known for hiding, Kaiser. She doesn’t know everything despite what you might think.” 

 

He picked up the notebook and flipped through the pages all filled with what he assumed was plans but couldn’t read as they were in a code. 

 

“How long have you expected this?” 

 

“Two years,” Roberto said, coming to lean over him, “She isn’t very subtle when she’s disappointed.” 

 

Duncan looked up and saw his deep frown. “What’s got you so sad?” 

 

“I’m not gonna let them get you.” 

 

“If it comes down to saving yourself or saving me---” 

 

“I’m NOT---” 

 

He grabbed Roberto’s chin to pull him close and the watery glare he got in return made him smile. 

 

“I’m not asking you, my Petite. I’m ordering you.” 

 

Roberto’s mouth trembled just slightly before he spit in Duncan’s face, pushing him back. 

 

Duncan wiped himself off and closed the notebook. His Little Death’s eyes were red and watery as he stomped off to the bathroom, slamming the door. 

 

Anger was better than sentiment for them for now, the need for self preservation needed to be first and foremost in Roberto’s mind. 

 

They had people to kill, yes, but they also had to save themselves. 

 

Though if it came down to him or his La Petite Mort, Duncan knew he wouldn’t hesitate to give himself up first. 

 

Now all he needed to do was make sure that never happened. 


	3. Chapter 3

Roberto drove the truck into town and came back with a car Duncan never seen before, a small thing that barely fit the things they’d need inside. He was rolled up into an area rug and tossed into the backseat, a trick to fool the eyes they both knew were on them. 

He waited for Roberto to pull their small car away before he unrolled just enough to breathe. 

“There is a hole in the top of the car’s covering.” 

Roberto’s chuckle made him smile. “I picked it for that very reason. You had to have something to look at for the next several hours.” 

Duncan sighed. “You’re too good to me, Petite. Do we have friends?” 

“One who isn’t even bothering to hide.” 

“You should call and give her a piece of your mind.” 

“She won’t give a shit.” 

“She will if she thinks you’re upset and need time alone to mourn. There are many things I could say about her but she respects us all even if it’s all about money.” 

There was silence for far too long before he heard, “Call Her,” and the echoed sound of ringing. 

“I didn’t expect to hear from you.” 

Roberto sniffled. “Leave me alone for this. I’m gonna get rid of the body and--” 

 

“That isn’t what we discussed. I loved the pictures but I need to see him with my own two eyes.” 

Silence before a soft whisper. 

“I just….need a night.” 

 

More silence. 

“You have twelve hours. Then I want you and him on a flight back.” 

Roberto thickened his voice as he spoke. “We will be. Thank you.” 

“I wish this didn’t have to happen too, you know. He was one of the best.” 

“He wasn’t one of the best,” Roberto snapped, “He WAS the best. He didn’t have to die.” 

 

“Yes he did.” 

Duncan closed his eyes as he listened to Roberto end the call and dismantle the phone, snapping the chip inside. 

“Fucking bitch.” 

“That bitch sounded sympathetic.” 

Roberto scoffed. “Or she knows just what to say. What did you used to call it? Diplomatic….” 

“Delicacy.” 

“Yeah. Not my specialty.” 

Duncan smiled. “You underestimate the power of a good honeypot.” 

“Is that a compliment?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head.” 

“I never do.” 

He turned onto his side and looked at the back of the seat. “Any new eyes?” 

“Two,” Roberto said, “I think I have one in front of me. They’re probably watching me talk to myself.” 

“How would you explain it?” 

 

“The truth. I’m talking to you.” 

“And what would you say to my corpse that you couldn’t say to me?” 

He counted sixty whole seconds before an answer. 

“The first time I killed someone I cried for two hours in the shower.” 

Duncan wished he could see his face. “What else?” 

“You’re an asshole for bringing me into this.” 

He closed his eyes. 

“And?” 

 

“The first time I let another man fuck me I pretended he was you. I even called out Papa when I came.”

“You know I hate it when you call me that.” 

Roberto’s laugh sounded pained. “Liar.” 

He put his hand on the back of the seat and pressed in hard so his touch could be felt. 

“Is that all?” 

 

Duncan felt the car turn just enough that his hand moved lower. 

“I wish you could’ve seen me as more than a little boy.”

The silence in the car that followed was deafening, almost louder than any other sound could have been, and in lieu of a response he said nothing. He grew bored enough to fall asleep after the first two hours, the discomfort of the rug not enough to bother him. When he woke it was to the sound of Roberto’s voice. 

“Wakey wakey!” 

He blinked his eyes open and when he rolled the pain of the car’s seat belt dug into his back. 

“What--” 

It took way too long for him to notice the car was no longer moving. 

“What time is it?” 

 

“Later than you think.” 

He didn’t move. “Where are we?” 

 

“Just outside Jacksonville at a rest stop. I needed to eat and seem to have lost our friends.” 

“Seem to have or actually have?” 

 

“I don’t know and don’t care. You want a nugget or not?” 

Duncan said nothing though the scent of food hit him hard. It had been several hours since breakfast. 

Roberto put on the radio and pushed the seat back before he locked the doors. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Pretending to cry so I can feed you.” 

Before he could protest a package of nuggets were tossed to him that he ate with reluctance. He lifted his head just enough to see Roberto, lying on his side as he chewed on what looked to be a chicken sandwich. 

“Thank you.” 

“Uh huh,” he said, taking another bite, “The few hours we get won’t be many.” 

“I know.” 

“I have stuff at my safe houses if we run out what you brought.” 

“I assumed.” 

The silence he got in return for his response was deafening.

“I could’ve gotten tinted windows,” Roberto said, “You know I almost did so they couldn’t see you inside.” 

“But the windows would’ve been a bigger giveaway than the rug?” 

“Nah,” he said, smiling, “I just wanted you to have to be uncomfortable.” 

Duncan suddenly ached for a cigarette. “Congratulations.” 

Roberto laughed and sighed loudly. “You know, I’m feeling a little….antsy. It’s been ages since I got laid.” 

He didn’t respond. 

“You would’ve liked him. Tall, dark, handsome, had a bit of gray at his temples and tiny wrinkles on his---” 

“Enough,” he hissed, “We need to move.” 

Roberto licked his lips and sighed again. “Yes, Papa.” 

“You call me that again and I am going to strangle you.” 

He turned to grab the seat’s handle and smiled before he pulled it up. “Promise?” 

Duncan couldn’t help but smile once it was clear he was unseen. 

“Brat.” 

“Love you too.” 

The remainder of their trip was entirely silent on his part while Roberto rambled on with stories about sexual encounters that were made to make him jealous in some way. He hardly listened, knowing most if not all of the men and women in question were deceased, and the more he didn’t rise the more detailed his Petite seemed to get. 

“...and he had a cock the size of….” 

A loud horn cut off the rest of his story thankfully, and Duncan rolled onto his belly again while sweat poured in his face. 

He had been keeping track and by last count they had spent nearly six hours on the road without many stops. They had to be near their destination soon. 

The car took a squealing left and he felt the ground start to rumble beneath them as they drove. 

“Almost there. Though if you’re asleep you wouldn’t hear me anyway so I don’t know why I’m bothering to---” 

“I’m awake.” 

“Oh,” Roberto said, “You heard all that?”   
“Yes.” 

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“I’m sure you did, Little Death. That was why you used to many details.” 

“You always said details were important.” 

If he didn’t know better Duncan could’ve sworn he heard embarrassment in his voice. 

“That I did. How many visitors do you think we had?” 

“Besides the tails back in Florida and the drones? At least seven. None since I crossed the state line though.” 

The minute he heard the sound of a garage door open and close Duncan sat up, groaning as he stretched. 

“Fuck that was uncomfortable.” 

Roberto turned to smile at him. “You look like shit. Sweaty, old shit.” 

“Thank you.” 

Roberto got out of the car and didn’t look back at Duncan again before he went to the trunk. He pulled out the bag of guns and Duncan maneuvered himself out on his own. The garage was sparsely filled with gas cans and what looked to be plastic sheeting on a shelf nearby. He frowned and headed for the door into the house. 

This was just as empty though he was oddly surprised to see how clean things were. Roberto he found in the kitchen near the coffeemaker. 

“Do you come here often?” 

He looked over his shoulder at Duncan, smiling as he raised an eyebrow. “Are you coming onto me, Papa?” 

Duncan rolled his eyes. “I only ask because of how clean everything seems to be.” 

 

Roberto turned and hopped up on the counter, his feet dangling as his smile widened. 

“There’s been a lot that’s changed over the last four years, you know. I’m not the little bratty thing who used to toss garbage on the floor and eat nothing but fast food.” 

Duncan smiled. “No, you’re only the big bratty thing who eats fast food. I’m glad you decided to start throwing away your garbage and cleaning up after yourself.” 

He pretended not to notice the twitch in his Petite’s mouth or the angry scowl that lasted a half second before a smile made it seem like a hallucination. 

“I had to grow up, didn’t I? I mean, it’s not like I had any old men breathing down my neck all the time.” 

“Off your leash you must have been hard to handle for her.” 

Roberto raised his eyebrow. “Do you honestly think I can be handled by anyone?” 

He smiled. “No, I don’t suppose you can. Now I think it’s best that we begin to prepare.” 

 

“We just got somewhere safe. Can’t we just...be?” 

Duncan looked around the kitchen and adjoining dining room. He imagined there to be a living room area, and perhaps some bedrooms. None of those places were safe no matter how they may feel. 

“I thought I’d taught you better, Petite. Nowhere is safe.” 

Roberto rolled his eyes and jumped off the counter. He opened the door between the living room and the kitchen then flipped on a light. “Let’s go then, Papa. No fun for us then.” 

There was a long set of stairs that Roberto went down and he followed without question. The cool air suggested protection that kept out the Georgia heat. “Concrete?” 

“Obviously. Most basements are concrete floored and….” 

“Bullet proofed walls?” 

He turned to smile at Duncan on the last step. “Of course.” 

Duncan took in the basement as Roberto walked on ahead of him. The walls were covered in various weapons: knives, guns, blow darts, and even different types of brass knuckles. He ran his fingers over the gold ones and imagined Roberto using them. 

“When do you have the occasion to use these?” 

“I got one in Dubai last year with those. He was balls deep in my ass when I first hit him.”  
He dropped his hand and turned to look at the tables around him covered in mostly vests and protective gear. There were tall black dressers along the walls and when he opened one of the drawers he saw ammunition inside. 

“All of your houses are this heavily stocked?” 

“I like to be prepared.” 

Duncan leaned his back against the dresser as Roberto picked up a pistol, his nimble fingers cocked it one handed. 

“One night,” he said softly, making Roberto look at him. 

“One night for what?” 

“To be. Then we will move on towards our prey.” 

The bright smile that broke on his Petite’s mouth made his chest ache. “Papa is going to go worry free for little ol’ me?” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

Roberto put the pistol in the front of his pants and slinked over to him, moving his hips seductively in a way he was sure made most mens’ mouths water. Duncan hardly noticed anything but his smile.

He stopped right in front of him and put hands on both sides of his hips. 

“You love it, don’t lie.” 

Duncan’s eyes followed the path of his tongue as Roberto licked his lips. 

“What do you want to do then, Petite Mort?”

“Well…” 

“You haven’t yet earned a kiss so anything beyond that is off the table.” 

“Then let’s play a game.” 

Duncan reached out and put a hand on Roberto’s neck. “Our favorite game?” 

“Mmm hmm,” he whispered, his hand coming to rest at Duncan’s neck. 

“First one to blink gets what exactly? I don’t imagine you need money like you once did.” 

Roberto leaned into the touch of his hand and the scent of him made Duncan falter. He hardly expected the scent of someone to make him homesick yet here here he was feeling just that. The sweet scent brought up memories that just a day ago quickened his anger. 

“I want to earn my kiss.” 

He smiled and loosened his hold. “All right then.” 

Roberto squeezed his neck and plastered himself to Duncan’s front. His mouth was so close that one small movement would put an end to their debate. 

“May the best man win.”


	4. Chapter 4

The first time they played the game was in Singapore. 

She had told Duncan it was time to take La Petite Mort out on his first assignment then despite many attempts on his behalf to dissuade her. Roberto was just not ready for death, they both knew this, but she insisted it was not his call.

He stood across a crowded casino and watched how easily Petite charmed his target, lured him in with alluring glances and equally filthy words. His anger at how the target replied wasn’t jealousy per se, it was annoyance over a dirty old dictator who could not keep his hands to himself. The fear as he watched them walk off was warranted though an earpiece hard been in place to alert if Roberto needed any help. 

Ten minutes went by. 

Twelve. 

The wait headed just near twenty before Roberto came back to their shared room with a bloody knife with a smile that would not meet his eyes. 

“Mission accomplished. I need to shower.” 

The two hours that went by he pretended meant nothing and ignored the redness of Petite’s eyes. He wore a white plush robe and nothing else as he climbed into the bed across from his own. 

“I think this calls for a celebration.”

Duncan had taken one look at him, the red eyed fearful boy, and pretended to see the facade he wanted him to see. “What do you have in mind?” 

Roberto held up his left hand and made a fist. “How long can you hold your breath?” 

That was how their game was born. 

It was a similar to Chicken, though much harder to pull away from. He would never have trusted anyone but Petite with this game, this vulnerability, the tightening of his smaller fists on Duncan’s neck. They would fight on their downtime but this was a different thing. 

Trust. 

He had forgotten what it felt like to have it, truth be told, and now as they lay on Roberto’s living room floor he gave in to the feeling once again. 

Roberto was stronger now, larger, but hadn’t half the strength Duncan did. They floundered back and forth between who was on top, the erotic nature of it all now forefront in his mind. He hadn’t thought of it then, not at all, but now with hardness against his hip it was all he could. Roberto had him pinned at the moment, red faced and smiling, and it took all he had not to surrender to darkness. 

“You giving in, Papa?,” he asked softly, “So soon?” 

Duncan pushed forward and tossed him off, rolling till Roberto was beneath him. He stared down at him, huffing for breath. 

“Never.” 

His smile as Duncan tightened his hands on him was fond. “I missed you.” 

Duncan tightened his hold. “You missed someone to pester. Someone to challenge. Someone to...” 

A single tear went down Roberto’s cheek. “Y...es.” 

He waited to be unseated but the flutter of his Petite’s eyes just worsened until he was out completely. Duncan moved off him and stared at his unconscious body, his hands shaking as he touched his pulse. He knew it would be steady, he hadn’t been attempting to kill so of course it would be, but still his hand stayed. 

“I was going to let you win,” he whispered, leaning over him again. 

The changes to his face were miniscule but Duncan could pinpoint every single one, the loss of youth and beginning of adulthood still on the cusp of fruition. He licked his lips before he kissed him, lingering to taste the edge of Roberto’s lips before he pulled away. 

“Bratty boy.” 

There were two bedrooms on the second floor both with bulletproof windows. He put Roberto in the far left one, taking off his shoes as he covered him with a blanket. He wouldn’t sleep long, maybe an hour, but part of him hoped it was longer. 

He wasn’t sure if he could resist him awake tonight. 

Duncan thought for a moment to go to the other bedroom but took the floor, bringing in pillows and laying beside the bed in the dark. He knew he’d be sore in the morning but couldn’t imagine sleeping anywhere else. 

He stirred sometime later, grabbing the arm that touched him in the dark. “What…?” 

 

“It’s me,” Roberto whispered, lying in front of him, “Go back to sleep, Papa.” 

He pulled him closer and buried his nose against Roberto’s neck. 

“I missed you too.” 

Duncan pretended not to feel the soft kiss to his lips moments later. 

But when Roberto lay down again he pulled him in just a little bit closer. 

He woke in Roberto’s bed without any memory of having gotten there and tangled up with his Little Death. Roberto’s warm breath was on Duncan’s neck and the feel of his morning wood went right to his own. He attempted to move but only got more tangled, rolling them over until he was on top and not at all surprised to see Roberto wide awake. 

“Good morning.” 

“Good morning,” he said, “You moved me.” 

 

“You kept on moaning and groaning on the floor so I lifted you up, then walked us both to the bed. You begged me to get naked but….I resisted.” 

Duncan smiled. “I’m sure I begged quite adamantly.” 

“For hours.” 

He got out of bed and stretched, the soreness of the floor evident in every muscle but he held back a groan. “It would be best if we get a move on this morning. Your free time is fast disappearing and soon they will come calling.” 

“We could just….run.” 

Duncan turned around and saw the raw emotion in his Petite’s face. “Roberto….” 

He smiled and tears shone in his eyes. “I have contacts, you have contacts, and we could just become different people. I don’t care what anyone else calls me as long as you call me yours.” 

“It is a nice pipe dream but we both know this can only end in blood. They will find us no matter where we go.” 

Roberto turned to stare at the wall with a petulant flip and his silence said everything. 

Duncan left the bedroom and walked down the stairs with his stomach in knots over this whole thing. He didn’t want the money, honestly couldn’t care less about it, but knew they wouldn’t take that as an answer. Trust was hard to come by in this business. 

Almost as much as love. 

He headed straight for the coffee maker in the kitchen and opened the closest cabinet for the can when a noise made him freeze. He eyed the butcher block by his left side and slowly pulled out a knife just as another shuffle of footsteps hit him. 

“Have you come to apologize for your petulance?” 

No answer. 

Before he could think another second he turned, tossing the knife into the man close behind him. The gun went off and he kicked at the man’s back legs, taking him down just as a shout came from far off. 

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING HOUSE!” 

Duncan grabbed the man’s neck and broke it, rushing into the living room to see Robero straddling a body and holding shooting another on the stairs. He turned fast and his hands shook when he saw Duncan. 

“Time’s up.” 

They headed for the basement door just as two others rushed at them, both killed instantly with two shots to the head as Duncan cursed. 

“We have to get out of here.” 

“We need those guns! We’re not leaving without weapons!” 

Duncan rushed down the stairs just as a knife hit him in the lower back. He stumbled and fell down the last five, grabbing and tossing it back into the woman’s eye. She went down instantly and he rushed for the nearest duffle. 

Roberto came down after, red faced and spitting his words. “She said she’d give me time!” 

“Maybe she had no choice.” 

“She does what she’s told, we both know that.” 

They filled two duffles with as much as they could and slowly walked up the stairs with guns in hand. 

The silence was enough to make them think the worst was over but when they found the tires slashed on their getaway car Roberto slammed his hand down hard on the hood. 

“FUCK!” 

“They must have had transportation, Petite. Calm yourself. Fear leads to panic.” 

He looked at him and glared. “How are you not panicked?” 

“I’ve had worse.” 

Roberto heaved the bag over his shoulder and walked up to the garage door, hitting the button. 

“Then c’mon, old man. Show me how we’re getting out of this.” 

Duncan smiled and followed him as they walked down the driveway. They got about a foot away when someone clipped his left cheek and he shot back at the man on the rooftop, who fell down with a loud splat. 

“With pleasure.”


	5. Chapter 5

The would be killers did have transport along with many more weapons to add to their arsenal. Duncan drove this time, knowing there was little point in staying hidden, and tried not to flinch as Roberto tended to the mark on his cheek. 

 

“It’s not important,” he mumbled, hands tight to the wheel, “We have to formulate a plan.” 

 

“I thought the plan was to go to them.” 

 

“There are many places that they are or could be.” 

 

“None of those fuckers will care to come after us if there’s no one left to be loyal to. We just have to get to her and...him.” 

 

Blut. 

 

Duncan hadn’t interacted much with the head of Damocles beyond their first meeting. The man was a leech, a demented sadist who took immense pleasure out of his position as head of an elite organization such as theirs. He used his position to lure in beautiful women, took higher cuts of assassins’ money than he deserved, and seemed to have little qualms about giving into his own sick pleasures along the way. 

 

“When was the last time you saw him?” 

 

His Petite gave a visible shudder. “The Paris job, a month ago. He wanted me to fuck some ugly old woman for money after I’d finished with this married man whose wife wanted him dead.” 

 

He felt his lip twitch. “And you said?”

 

“I said unless I was gonna slit her throat after he better stop thinking he owned my ass.” 

 

Duncan smiled. “I’m sure that didn’t go over well.” 

 

“Nope,” Roberto said, stretching back on the seat, “I got put off working till…”

 

“Me.” 

 

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “She asked me if I could kill you and I didn’t hesitate to say yes.” 

 

He looked over at him. “Were you planning on killing me?” 

 

Roberto grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

 

“That’s why I asked, Petite.” 

 

The words made him look away. “Like you don’t know.” 

 

He put his hand on Roberto’s knee and gave it a squeeze. “Humor me.” 

 

The look that flashed between them was full of unspoken words and broken promises. 

 

“Just drive, Papa.” 

 

Duncan took his hand away. “I think we should go to see Jazmin.” 

 

Roberto scoffed. “If you think I’m going anywhere near that woman….” 

 

Jazmin had once been a very active member of Damocles long before Roberto came into his life. She was the only other assassin he’d personally trained though there as one difference between his two proteges. 

 

Jazmin had been in his bed while Roberto had not. 

 

“She has the means to give us enough for an army and that’s what we’ll need.” 

 

He felt Roberto’s glare even without looking to him. 

 

“We can go to someone else. You have lots of other people who---” 

 

Duncan turned abruptly and pulled to the side of the road, slamming his foot down onto the brake. He let out a long shaky breath before he spoke. 

 

“Your childish jealousy is not going to get me killed, brat,” he whispered, “We’re going to see Jazmin where we’ll get enough guns to end this. Do we understand each other?” 

 

Roberto reached for his hand on the steering wheel and threaded his fingers through Duncan’s. 

 

“You’re mad at me.” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

He unbuckled his safety belt and moved in to lay his head on Duncan’s shoulder. 

 

“I don’t like her.” 

 

“You’ve made that perfectly clear, brat,” he grumbled, “But you are not the authority here.” 

 

He felt Roberto’s breath tickle his neck. “Do I have to talk to her?” 

 

“No.” 

 

Duncan felt the loss when Roberto moved back to his seat and watched as he fixed his belt again. “Fine.” 

 

The jealousy should’ve been flattering though it was over someone he long had put aside as anything more than a friend. He’d been intimate with Jazmin for years but never felt half as protective or cared as deeply for her as he did for the young man beside him. 

 

He pulled back onto the road and knew they had a few hours drive ahead of them, glad to have taken out any tracking devices in the vehicle. Not that he needed any help to find Jazmin’s place after having been there so many times. 

 

Roberto’s cold silence after his decision spoke volumes and the next few hours were painfully dull though kept his mind on the situation at hand. 

 

Damocles wanted to kill him and now by extension Roberto. They had very few allies in this fight but themselves. He wondered if perhaps it would be better to just give himself up and get this all over with. Blut would be angry at Roberto’s betrayal but perhaps not enough to seek vengeance upon him. 

 

Duncan looked over and saw his Petite now asleep, pressed against the window pane as far from him as possible. The childish tantrums should not be so enduring but yet they were. 

 

He forced himself to look back at the road and kept on, his eyes drooping down as he fought to stay awake. They could come at any minute, attack any second, and he needed to stay alert for any signs of danger. 

 

It was nearing midnight when he almost veered into oncoming traffic and forced himself to pull into the first hotel off the highway. The place was a dive, which was always best, and when he woke Roberto the first thing he did was laugh. 

 

“Classy.” 

 

“Cheap and inconspicuous.” 

 

Roberto jumped out of the car and stretched wide. His shirt rode up just enough to tease a glimpse of his bare belly and Duncan looked away. “Come.” 

 

The front desk help consisted of one very old man and a parrot. Duncan bristled at the sight of the bird. 

 

“May I help you?” 

 

He shook himself a bit. “One room please. Two beds. Six hours.”

 

The old man’s nametag had the name Sylvester on it and when he grabbed them a key the number was so worn away he could hardly see the seven. “Fifty five.” 

 

Duncan looked down and saw the rates by the hour written below the counter. “It says--” 

 

Sylvester held back the key and glared at him. “Fifty...five.” 

 

He handed him three twenties and snatched the key. Sylvester grinned. “I don’t got any change.” 

 

Roberto giggled as Duncan stormed out of the office and towards their room. 

 

“Nice guy.” 

 

“A crook,” Duncan mumbled, “This world is full of them.” 

 

“I remember,” Roberto said softly, “Don’t fall for anyone’s goodness. Everyone has some agenda.” 

 

He blinked. “You remembered.” 

 

Roberto snatched the key from him and grinned. “I remember everything you say, Papa.” 

 

Duncan watched him head for room seven and remembered the time he’d said those words. 

 

The job had been a less than standard one. A woman wanted her husband of forty years murdered while he was away at a convention. She’d specified the way she wanted it done, and Roberto to his displeasure had struck up a conversation with their target that lasted way longer than normal. He’d left the table and walked off, the look on his face full of doubt, and Duncan spent the rest of the night persuading him to finish the job. 

 

“He seemed like a nice guy. A little old man.” 

 

“Don’t fall for anyone’s goodness. Everyone has an agenda.” 

 

He’d poisoned the old man’s bourbon later and walked him to his room. Duncan had taken him to another hotel after and plied him with his favorite foods the next few hours. Roberto smiled again when he brought the Oreo cookies. 

 

They hadn’t spoken of that job again till now. 

 

The sound of Roberto’s low whistle brought him out of his reverie and Duncan headed for the open door of Room Seven. The stale stench of sex was only outdone by the horribly dated decor, but that wasn’t the part that made Roberto grin. 

 

“Looks like we’re sharing a bed again tonight,  _ Papa _ .” 

 

Duncan seethed as he stomped inside, tossing down a bag of guns. “I paid that man sixty dollars.” 

 

“And he gave you exactly what you needed.” 

 

He pulled off his shirt and wriggled out of his jeans before he flopped down onto the bed with a content sigh. Duncan swallowed past the dryness in his throat at the sight of him. 

 

“I can take the floor again.” 

 

“You know you’ll only end up right here beside me,” Roberto said, patting the pillow next to him, “Don’t worry. I won’t touch you in your sleep….much.” 

 

Duncan shook his head. “I’ll take the shower first. Unless you were going to bed filthy?   
  


Roberto grinned. “I always go to bed filthy, didn’t you know?” 

 

He smiled. “I walked right into that one.” 

 

“You did, but you’re still cute so it’s okay.” 

 

He shook his head and headed to the shower. Roberto’s flirtatious comment echoed in his mind as he turned on the water and he wondered when the younger man would get tired of this game. 

 

“You didn’t say anything.” 

 

Duncan turned to see Roberto standing in the doorway. “Your attempts to rattle me don’t always need to be countered.” 

 

“They’re not---” 

 

He put up his hand. “Save it, please. I’m tired, covered in blood, and have no need for it.” 

 

The defiant glare he was so fond of made an appearance. 

 

“Fine.” 

 

Duncan watched him walk away and had to force myself not to follow. 

 

Petite was no longer the young man he’d once been and needed no comfort. 

 

He showered with quick efficiency, his mind empty, and when he got back out to find the room empty Duncan’s panic was immediate.

 

The rush for a gun took only seconds and he ran for the door not caring about his clothes. He had his hand on the knob when it opened and he grabbed the person on the other side, slammed them into the wall, and pressed the gun to their forehead without paying any attention to who they were. 

 

Roberto stared back at him with wide eyes. 

 

“I didn’t realize it was time for nude wrestling.”

 

Duncan stepped back angrily, uncocked his gun and slammed it on the dresser. “Where were you? We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile!” 

 

“I was thirsty.” 

 

“There’s water in the goddamn sink.” 

 

Roberto tossed two cans of soda onto the bed before he stomped off toward the bathroom. 

 

“You’re welcome, asshole.” 

 

Duncan didn’t look as he slammed the bathroom door and moved to pick up the cans. He put on his briefs, suddenly conscious of his nudity, and slid into bed before he turned off the lights. 

 

His adrenaline still pumped through his veins and he forced his eyes closed. 

 

The fear that something had happened to Roberto had been so intense he could still feel it. 

 

“Everything is fine.” 

 

He felt his body calm as he let the words wash over him. This day was almost over now and tomorrow they would head for Jazmin. She would give them the ammunition and guns they needed to take down Damocles. 

 

Al he had to do now was sleep. 

 

There was a click as the door to the bathroom opened and Duncan still didn’t look. 

 

Roberto’s soft footfalls were familiar enough that he could almost decipher which sound each one of his feet made. His left foot was slighter louder than his right and echoed every time he stepped with it. 

 

“I know you’re awake, old man.”    
  


“I wasn’t pretending to be asleep.” 

 

“Hmm,” Roberto mumbled, slipping into bed beside him. 

 

Duncan could feel the warmth of him pressed against his back. “I thought you weren’t going to touch me.” 

 

“I said I wouldn’t touch you in your sleep. You’re awake.” 

 

He smiled. “ Touché .” 

 

They lay there pressed together for a moment before he leaned back against him. 

 

“Do you remember the first time you called me Little Death?” 

 

Duncan nodded. “The Wesker Job.” 

 

Roberto smiled against his shoulder. “You were so proud of me.” 

 

“I still am,” he said softly. 

 

“Then why did you….” 

 

He let out a long breath. “I would’ve died there if I’d stayed,” he confessed, “We both know it. And when I woke up and realized I wanted to that’s when I decided to let them make me go.” 

 

The quiet he got in answer made him think their discussion was over but just as he started to drift off he heard a reply. 

 

“I wanted to go with you.” 

 

Duncan reached over to feel for Roberto’s hand and grabbed it tightly. “If you had we both would be dead already.” 

 

He felt Roberto move closer and press his face against him. 

 

“I love you,” he whispered, “You don’t have to say it back and you don’t have to believe it but I’m gonna keep saying it.” 

 

Duncan squeezed his hand and said nothing, only let go of the fear that had kept him from this for so long. 

 

He would fight Damocles to the bitter end to keep it. 


End file.
